Carnival Time

The carnival came to town this weekend. My grandson and I took his son to the carnival. The five-year-old child has a heart condition that is slowly repairing itself; the weather was hot, the noise crazy loud, so we told him to pick one ride and we would walk around a bit afterward. He instantly picked the Puppy Roll, a fairly safe-looking ride, and was sure that was the one he wanted. I suggested some more options, but he was adamant. The Puppy Roll had to be the one. His eyes were wide with excitement.

After that ride, he immediately saw two more he just had to ride. By this point, he was jumping up and down like a new puppy himself. His face was red, flushed, and perspiring. My grandson said “no more,” and I was secretly glad for that one ride cost $3.00 for less than five minutes. Call me a tightwad, but I can think of better things to buy for ten bucks for under 15 minutes of rides. Especially when we had to return him to his mother, looking like a little red lobster.

I had seen a booth for funnel cakes on the way in, so I was tempted to order one in spite of it not being good for me. It cost $7.00 for the basic bread with a little powdered sugar sprinkled on the top. Extra toppings cost a dollar each. Now I know I am a tightwad, for the price saved me from eating something I should not have in the first place.

The child is having a complete meltdown at this point. We were keeping him from experiencing great moments of his life. So I gave him the talk that every loved child gets at some point at this age: “You had your choice of what you could ride. You chose the Puppy Roll. I’m sorry you didn’t enjoy it. The fact is that you are not the boss. Me and your Daddy is (not correct grammar but he didn’t seem to notice). You must trust us to do what’s best for you.”

That didn’t slow down the flow of tears much, and my grandson was getting frustrated. I told him to just keep walking and not respond to his son’s desperation. We finally walked past a city park with playground equipment for young children. Bingo! The rides were covered, providing shade, and there was a tree nearby for us grown-ups. Exactly what we needed to fulfill our promise of being trustworthy. It did the trick. He left happy. We went to Taco Bell for nachos, and the day was a success.

I wonder if we look like the young child to God when we are sure there are adventures we must explore. Thankfully, He will divert our attention to more wholesome activities if we will trust Him.